Dead Girl's Pleasure
by Trekkie Lizard
Summary: Mind the rating! Anyway, Dean goes to find help when Sam goes missing on the job.
1. Searching for Help in the Dark

**_A/N: _**This is my first Supernatural story, so I hope you like. There's a bit of Sammy angst in here, as every good story needs, so please R&R with questions, comments, and suggestions. Thanks for reading, and here's Chapter One.

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_Sam Winchester was having a dream. Not any ordinary dream, though. It was a nightmare within a dream, about himself. Why was this happening to him, anyway? What had he done? Sam had gone to college, tried to live a normal life, and was even going to propose to the most beautiful girl on campus, but all that changed. She had been killed – after he had dreamed about it for days before – by the same thing that had killed his mom. His father was missing, so his older brother Dean had come to scoop him away from college life and take him on the road. _

_Now they did their job, saving people, hunting things, the family business. But sometimes that just wasn't enough. Sometimes Sam would have these dreams – nightmares – and then they would come true. So, anytime he had one, Sam would let his brother know where they needed to go next, and that would lead the trail away from their father on occasion. Why did things have to go so wrong sometimes? _

_However, he wasn't in the car asleep, no, he wasn't with his brother at all. There he lay, in a cold metal box that was almost too short for him to sit up in, and barely long enough to lie down upon. Sleep had taken him once more, away from the pain of reality, and the worry of what might happen next. This was no ordinary nightmare, not even for him. Sam was being held captive by … something out there. He didn't even know what for sure. _

_He was dreaming, sure, but within the simple dream – where he was in his brother's old Impala – there was this nightmare, about where he was, and who was after him. Sam feared that he might not make it out alive, and he was even starting to wonder if he wanted to live anymore. What was there to live for? A missing father? A girl-crazy brother? The knowledge that everyone really should be afraid of the dark? _

Dean ran one hand through his hair as his car sped down the road, nearing 85 miles per hour in a 55 zone. No way was he slowing down. He had to get help, someone, anyone. But the first name he had found and called from the journal wasn't just anyone, it was a telepath, someone who could see the future at times, and was a bit like Sammy. Oh, Sammy. Why did this have to happen to his baby brother?

Just a couple more minutes on the road, and he'd get where he was going, unless he got stopped by a cop first. If a cop went after him today, though, he'd better have spike strips. No, that'd hurt the car. Maybe a good blockade. Yeah, that'd work.

His mind had drifted away now, off his brother for the tiniest fraction of a moment, as it seemed to do sometimes. Dean jerked his thoughts back on track as he took the curve in the road and then turned off the road, heading towards an old log cabin. He had been told by the voice on the phone where to find her, and Dean could only hope that she really was there.

Dean's '67 Impala seemed to slow itself down as it approached the vaguely familiar home. It was as if the car knew it was time to stop there and have a little chat. Finally putting it in park, Dean grabbed the bag where he had packed the laptop, dad's journal, and Sammy's notebook. He slammed the car door without much love and stormed up the broken steps to the opening door.

"He's gone," Dean announced, pushing through the doorway and into the house. A shadowy figure behind him closed the door quietly before joining the older man's trek to the living room couch to talk.


	2. A Shadow in the Light

**_A/N: _**Thank you kindly to the people that reviewed, especially my friend Mrs. Winchester. I hope you both (and more) like this next chapter, I know I had a lot of fun writing it! So, please read and review!

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_His head was cold and wet now. Had Sam been sweating? He didn't remember. But, now he was awake, and that thing was probably somewhere near by. Had it had accomplices working with it? That seemed most likely, because it couldn't touch Sam without seriously injuring – or killing – him. What did the spirit want from him? _

_He sat up slowly, still sore from being knocked unconscious and tossed in there like a rag doll. "Dean," he called for his brother, his voice scratchy and dry, "Dean!"_

_There was only silence to answer his calls, which meant one of three things. Either Dean wasn't there – which he really hoped for, Dean was dead – which was impossible in his mind, or Dean was unconscious still. But Sam really did hope for the first one, because then perhaps he had a chance to get out of there, to continue the fight against all things supernatural, and even the thing that was holding him there. _

A woman circled around the back of the old wool-covered couch before taking a seat beside Dean, who had his head in his hands now. She could tell that the older man had been holding back tears on the whole hour-long drive over to her home, and she put a hand on his head, rubbing his hair gently. It wasn't time to break down, but she knew the real relationship between Dean and Sam. How Dean felt, even if Sam didn't really know the truth about it all.

"Tell me," she said slowly as he raised his head off his hands to pick up the bag that was on the coffee table, "where he is."

Dean shook her hand off his head as he pulled the dad's journal and the laptop out of the bag, pulling up the lid of the computer so it'd turn itself on again and show what they had learned about the spirit that was after his brother – that had his brother. Poor Sammy. Why couldn't it have been Dean?

The woman looked over the screen, pushing her brown hair out of her face and behind her ear with one hand while tracing the rim of the laptop with her other. She closed her eyes when she had read a particularly interesting part of the research before turning back to the concerned brother on the couch. He wasn't acting like a hunter, but a brother, and that was something he needed to snap out of if they were going to get Sammy back alive.

"Have you called …," she left it hanging, knowing he'd know what she meant.

Dean only nodded and opened the journal to show what little clippings it held on the matter – which wasn't much. It had just been an impulse thing where the brothers had found an interesting article and wanted to go after it. They did that often, looking over random papers in some far off diner, before leaving the small town and hunting the thing down.

The woman cocked her head, "Say something, Deano."

"Lizzy, I don't know what to do," he finally met her eyes for a brief moment before looking back down at the papers in the journal.

Elizabeth Tucker had been a 'friend of the family' for a while now. Dean and his father, John, had met her on a job several years ago, and decided to keep in touch with her, because she was such a huge help to them. Dean didn't even know if she had spoken to John lately, but that wasn't what they were there to discuss. No, there were bigger fish to fry.

She nodded, knowing what he meant. Dean was completely lost without Sam, and she knew it, "Just take me with you, and we'll figure it out together."

_As if the sheer cold of the room wasn't enough, the whole place started to get really warm. Ok, not warm, scolding hot. Sam shifted his position slightly, glad that the floor beneath him was just packed dirt and wouldn't burn him. He almost started to pant, the sweat pouring off of him, and his body achingly confused. How had it been so cold, and now so warm? Who was this spirit and where was he? _

_It was still dark, the only possible light coming from a far off doorway that he couldn't really see past the bars of his cage. All he could do was hope beyond hope that Dean was out there somewhere, getting help, saving his ass. It seemed that's something they did a lot, saving each other as well as other people's lives. Perhaps that was the basic-ness of their job. Not only did they not get paid, but they also had to save other people all the time. Which really wasn't a bad thing, in fact, it made you feel all good inside. But getting paid for it would be better. _

_The far off door swung open wide, letting it a flood of light and little sparks of electricity from somewhere. A shadowy figure limped into the room, carrying a plate of food. It set the plate down directly outside Sam's cage and disappeared through the bright doorway. Sam took a minute to blink and try to see again in the sudden darkness, but he had to reach for the food through the hot bars, just guessing where it was. As his arm brushed against the metal bar, it suddenly turned ice cold again, and Sam yelped from the freezing burn. _


	3. Thinking Things Over

_**A/N: **Inching closer to finding Sammy, Liz and Dean are almost there! They should get there about ... two chapters or so from now, so they are getting closer, no worries! Please continue the kind reviews, and I hope you enjoy chapter three.

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Dean and Liz had gone out to the car after she grabbed her old 'just for emergencies' duffle bag and headed out the door in her long blue baby doll shirt and old jeans. Her random necklaces playfully clattered upon each other when she slid into the passenger seat, ready to be taken off to the place they were going, somewhere in the back woods of Kentucky. These things always seemed to like small towns.

He turned on the ignition, which happily roared to life; it was as if the car itself wanted to go find Sam and bring him back safely as well. However, Dean still hadn't told Liz where exactly Sam was, or how he had managed to get away from his older brother. She knew how protective Dean was with Sam, and why, but none of them mentioned that, ever.

Their little relationship was an interesting one, and how it started was even more interesting. First Liz was with Dean, then with Sam, and that was all after a bit of a manifestation problem in her home. Now the home was clean, and neither Dean nor Sam had kissed her since. It was almost like she was their adopted sister who lived always out of town from them – them being on a long road trip anyway – but yet still in reach.

_Sam cradled his sore arm after finally having gotten some of the food into his cell and the cup of water too. He only sipped at the water, thinking things over in his muddled mind. How could he escape? If only she came back here instead of whomever that was that kept turning on the lights. If only he could get close enough to seriously hurt her long enough to get away. _

_He didn't know how long he'd been down there, where ever there was, but he knew that Dean definitely should've come by now, and hadn't. His big brother wasn't in any of the other cells, he had figured that one out, so where was he? Getting back up? Making a brilliant plan to get baby brother Sammy out of trouble? Or just brooding in his car, waiting for Sam to make his own move. Ok, definitely not the last option. _

_The temperature in the room seemed now to be shifting at regular intervals. Perhaps every half hour? But then again, Sam's head was still really sore from being knocked out cold earlier, before he was taken here. How did Dean manage to get away? Was there some sort of secret weakness in the girl's gang that the older brother had managed to find? Or was he just simply tricky that way? _

_Sam didn't know and shook his head at himself, making it hurt more. He was sitting up in the darkness again, still holding the cup of water, wondering if his slowly forming plan would work, or just make her angrier. He didn't like being held against his will, much less by a little girl. _

They made the trip relatively quickly, so it seemed, and only had to stop once for gas and water bottles – best to keep one's wits about oneself while hunting down one's brother. Now, though, they were nearing the actual town where everything had gone down, and in particular, the woods outside the town. Things there were not as they seemed.

"So, this girl, she fell onto live power lines? How does that happen?" Liz asked, finally breaking the silence as they pulled off of the main town road onto a more winding one that led away from the quaint little town and down towards the woods.

Dean sighed a little before actually saying something. All this tension had been hanging in the air since they had left her home, "I don't know exactly. Apparently, she was cremated, though."

He shot her a worried glance, to which she just nodded, "I understand. It seems as though the power lines would've done half the job for them."

He didn't say anything more as they neared a strange clearing off the dirt road. The forest of bright, thick trees surrounded it, but left room for the old road to pass through, "This is it. Where I last saw him."

A tear came to his eye, and Dean had to quickly wipe it away before Liz noticed. Of course, it was too late for that, she already had noticed.

The girl in the picture was only about 10 with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. How could someone like that get shoved out of a window and onto live power lines? That's the way the story went, anyway, even if neither of them really believed it to be true or not.

While they got their bags of weapons and such, Liz started thinking to herself. If this ghost – spirit – could control electricity, then that'd make sense because she had died on power lines. However, how would they be able to take her down if she had no bones to salt and burn? She knew a lot about their jobs, even if they didn't really want to expose her to it in the first place, and had even helped Dean out a little when Sammy was away in college.

Now, though, things were different. It wasn't just helping Dean out for the sake of working with a hot guy; it was helping Dean out to find his brother. Sam could be in serious trouble here, and they both wanted him back alive, if that was at all possible with the present state of things.

How would they ever come up with a plan that'd be good enough to work?


	4. Inching Closer With a Plan

_Suddenly, the entire room lit up, as if it was on fire. But it wasn't. No, it actually had a couple of light bulbs in this dusty room, and someone had actually turned them on, but when Sam turned to face the doorway where the switch must be, the door was still closed, and there was no one there. Surely there must be someone there; perhaps his eyes just weren't used to the bright lights yet. Or maybe someone was just playing tricks on him and had the lights turn on by remote. But upon gazing at the switch, he saw it hadn't been flipped. _

_He still held onto the cup of water, barely touching his lips to it, even though he was thirsty. Sam had a plan, and for it to work, needed the water in the cup. That was, if she ever came into the room. _

_What was going on here? Sammy pulled his knees closer to himself and rested his chin on them as he looked out his cell door. It had taken a while, but he finally figured out that he was the only live one in the whole room. There was another man in the cell across from him, but from what Sam could tell, he hadn't been alive for a while. He looked peaceful, though, just leaning against the bars with his eyes shut. His thin frame was obviously fairly tall, like Sam, but it was so empty. Did he starve to death perhaps? _

_Sam didn't even want to consider that thought, the thought of dying like that. No, that wouldn't happen to him because Dean was out there still, he was sure of it now. There weren't any corpses he could see that looked anything like his older brother; on the contrary, most of them were tall and thin, like Sam. Did this spirit have an M.O.? _

Dean and Liz were hovering over the open trunk, wondering what to take with them on the hunt for Sam. Liz had been scouring the immediate area with a shotgun, but found nothing. Dean had even taken out his EMF meter, but it was just constantly going crazy, as if the whole clearing was blanketed with an electromagnetic field. But was that even possible?

"You know, water and electricity don't go well together," Liz innocently suggested when her hand had brushed up against a bottle of holy water. It wasn't a bad idea, but maybe not the best one either. Surely the brothers would've tried that by now.

Her friend just shrugged, though, loading another 'salt bullet' into his sawed-off shotgun that matched his brothers, "You mean like hairdryer in the bathtub?"

She nodded in agreement, a small smile appearing on her face at his comparison, "Yeah, exactly like that."

Dean just shrugged and handed her a bottle of holy water and another bottle of regular water, "Whatever will work."

Liz took the water from him and put them in the bag she was holding before walking away from the car and staring into the clearing, wondering which way to go. If they just had to guess until they found the right spot, that might take a while, because the clearing seemed rather large, or maybe it was just her, and she was just nervous about being out on another hunting trip.

Dean, however, seemed to know exactly where to go, to the same spot he had last seen his brother. That made the most sense, she supposed, and followed suit.

_Sam was still pondering the lights when the temperature changed again and he had to stretch out because being curled up is supposed to keep one warm, not cool. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, and his sore arm was aching now along with his splitting head. Why had they just hit him over the head? Why not just kill him right then and there? What was the purpose of this place? None of it made any sense. _

_Her friends were obviously helping, but where they all ghosts? That seemed to make the most logical sense, but because Sammy hadn't really gotten a good look at any of them, he didn't know for sure. Maybe they were living relatives of the girl, but she had died so long ago. Nothing made sense. _

_He clutched the cup in his hands, tempted to suddenly take another drink, but resisting the urge in the dim hope that the girl would come in and he could put his theory to good use. _


End file.
